Weekend Agreement (17 page)

“You can’t do that. He’s your brother.”

“He’s a lazy drunk, and as of last night, he’s a lazy, repulsive drunk. If you want to pretend he’s more, that’s fine. I’m done.”

Vivian set her cup down with a rattle. “It’s Professor Doherty, isn’t it? She’s poisoned you against your family.”

“Okay, first of all, your word choice is over the top. Second, no one ‘poisoned’ me. You all did the damage on your own. The only reason I ever put up with your antics was because I thought that someday you might—never mind.” Now was not the time to get into his warped notion of family. “Third, the way Cole was pawing Charlotte, he’s lucky I only punched him once. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take my coffee some place quiet, and as soon as I finish, Charlotte and I will be out of here.”

“Charlotte and you… You’re a couple?”

Were they? Daniel supposed so. Lord knows, he wasn’t ready to give her up yet.

Vivian arched a brow. “I have to give her credit. She works fast.”

The sharp bite of her words skittered down Daniel’s spine. He knew his mother well enough to know she didn’t toss around veiled comments without a reason. Whatever her reason, it started before Charlotte spoke out at her during the party. She’d had a problem with her from the beginning. “What’s the matter, Mother? Is it that you can’t stand the idea of someone stealing the limelight? That next to someone who is legitimately sweet and sincere you’ll pale in comparison?”

“Sweet and sincere?” His mother gave a very uncharacteristic snort. “My word, the sex must have gone to your brain, making you dim-witted. She’s
playing
you, Daniel.”

The familiar skepticism reared its ugly head. “Not true,” he snapped, fighting it.
Not Charlotte.

“It’s very true, you’re just too besotted to notice. I’ll give her credit though; maybe her next book should be about achieving your goals. She certainly knows how to get what she wants. Must be all that research she’s done.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Go ahead, don’t believe me. Though before you completely cast me as the villain, you might want to take a good look at the paperwork she brought with her. Fascinating reading.”

No.
Daniel’s blood chilled. There was no paperwork. His mother was simply baiting him, trying to ruin his happiness because he locked down his wallet. Charlotte wasn’t like that. She was different from the others. He saw it in her eyes.
He believed her.

Upstairs, Charlotte was still asleep. Daniel closed the door softly careful not to wake her. As always, her beauty took his breath away. There was such an innocence about her. An untouched quality so different from his jaded nature. A woman like him, looking to belong.

How could his mother ever think he’d believe her capable of subterfuge? She couldn’t be more different.

She was different, right?

Before he could stop them, the questions rushed through his head. What if Vivian, by some wild stretch of the imagination, was telling the truth?

You might want to take a good look at the paperwork she brought with her.

Damn Vivian. She knew exactly what to say to bring the doubts alive. Hating himself for it, he looked around the room until his eyes landed on the dresser. A thick manila file lay next to her makeup case.

Do. Not. Look
. His heart implored him to leave the issue alone. But he couldn’t. He had to know.

Struggling to keep his breath, he opened the file and reviewed the contents. Page after page of articles and photos, of him and the women he’d dated. Each flip of the page made the night they shared a bigger and bigger joke. In his mind, he saw the entire three days. She’d been playing him from the moment she walked in his office. From the plaintive glances to the sad stories about her mother, every move had been designed to entice him. To crack his defenses. Hell, for all he knew, she set up Cole.

God, how could he have been so wrong?

He crumpled the top page, crushing Valerie’s photo into a ball, his fist so tight his knuckles blanched. No wonder Charlotte was so different from the others. She planned it that way.

She might as well have ripped his chest in two.

Chapter Twelve

Charlotte didn’t wake so much as float back to consciousness. A memory of Daniel stroking her hair and whispering soft words teased her memory, and she stretched her hand across the sheets in search of him. Empty space greeted her.

Disappointed, she sat up. “Daniel?”

The room was empty. The nightstand clock told her several hours had passed since she drifted off to sleep.

She smiled, remembering the night. Daniel’s tender touch, the passion shining in his eyes. Last night she asked for the man she saw on the beach, and Daniel revealed him. To know he trusted her with his most vulnerable self…

Judy would laugh. Guys like Daniel Moretti don’t have vulnerable selves, she’d say. She’d be wrong. At Daniel’s core was a very poetic, romantic, fragile man. A man so deserving of love.

But where was Daniel now?

Impatient to see him again, she hurriedly freshened up, slipping into a pair of jeans and a white cotton sweater. Although they were supposed to fly back to Boston today, she hoped to convince him to delay their return a few hours. She wasn’t ready to end the idyll. Halfway to the door, her foot kicked a crumpled piece of paper. Must have been something from under the bed. Frowning, she tossed it basketball style into wastebasket. Vivian would have a fit if she thought the maids weren’t cleaning properly.

The first floor was awash with catering personnel. This time, however, they were busy dismantling the paradise they had worked so hard to create. As Charlotte picked up a stray rose, she felt a pang in her heart. She was sad to see the magical room disappear.

Vivian walked out of the ballroom and spied her standing there. “Surveying the scene of your triumph?”

For Daniel’s sake, Charlotte didn’t bite. “Have you seen Daniel? He wasn’t in his room.”

“You mean you don’t know where he is? I thought you knew everything about him.”

There was no mistaking the mocking in the older woman’s voice. As if she had a secret she was dying to share. Hating that she needed to play along to get answers, Charlotte sighed. “Where is he, Vivian?”

“Boston,” she answered with exaggerated sweetness. “He flew out early this morning.”

Leaving her to fly home alone like all his other lovers. Charlotte squeezed the banister, trying hard to keep her knees from buckling. Inside, a piece of her heart fell away. Looked like Judy was right after all.

…

He wouldn’t take her calls.

Charlotte set the phone back in its receiver. Three calls since Sunday, and each time Daniel’s assistant told her he was “in a meeting.” A believable enough excuse, except that Daniel didn’t return her calls, either.

True to his word, he sent the jet for her later Sunday afternoon. The pilot was extremely solicitous, and a dozen red roses were waiting when she boarded. The classic “thanks for the good time” brush-off.

She stared at the phone, scrunching her face in frustration. What on earth happened between Saturday night and Sunday morning? Did she push too hard? Did he get scared?

Or had Judy been right all along, and she’d been nothing more than a stupid romantic fool? A knock sounded on her office door.

“Didn’t your mother warn you about your face freezing?” Judy didn’t wait for an invitation to enter. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’ve been busy,” Charlotte murmured, returning her frown to the phone.

“Busy avoiding me. What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think anything’s wrong? Can’t I simply have a lot on my plate?”

“Sure, you can. But I don’t think you do, especially since under normal circumstances you’d be busting at the seams to talk about owning your farm again. What happened Saturday night anyway?” She stopped, a look of horror crossing her face. “Dear Lord, Danny-boy didn’t—”

“No, he didn’t. I volunteered.” The last of her frayed self-containment snapped and tears began to fill her eyes. “I’m such an idiot. You tried to warn me, but I went and created this whole persona…” She wiped the dampness from her cheeks. “Is this the point where you say I told you so?”

“You’ve kicked yourself enough. No need for me to add to your misery.”

“I don’t know what happened. Everything was so different on Nantucket. We seemed so close, so connected…”

“Exactly what he wanted you to think. How else could he break down your defenses? That’s what players do. They exploit your weak spots to get their way. Face it, the jerk knew what he wanted, and he went for it with both barrels. I’m sure you’re not the first woman to fall for those puppy-dog eyes of his.”

And fall she did. Like a ton of bricks tied to another ton of bricks. Another wave of tears threatened to burst forth. Charlotte sniffed as hard as she could to beat them back. “I thought I saw something in him the others didn’t see. I know,” she held up a hand before Judy could comment, “I’m a hopeless romantic.”

“Which I hope never changes.”

Charlotte looked up and sniffed. “I thought you hated my sentimentalizing.”

“Better a sentimental romantic than a cynical old English professor.” Her friend handed her a tissue from her pocketbook. “Besides, you’re not the first woman to fall hard for the wrong guy.”

But he’d seemed so right.
They
seemed right. She couldn’t have imagined everything. She simply couldn’t have.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and a young man wearing a courier’s uniform stepped into the office. “Professor Charlotte Doherty?” he asked tentatively, clearly uncomfortable walking in on the emotional conversation.

“I’m Charlotte Doherty.” Charlotte rose, squaring her shoulders and attempting to look professional despite her mascara-ringed eyes.

“I was asked to deliver this to you personally.” He handed Charlotte a large manila envelope. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the return address.

“A package from Moretti?” Judy remarked after the courier closed the door. “What do you think the jerk wants?”

“My guess is it’s the sales contract for the land,” Charlotte answered, thinking of how he personally delivered their other agreement. “As far as I know, our business deal still stands.”

Heart pounding, she opened the envelope and removed the contents, praying for a note or some kind of explanation. There was, but not what she expected. As soon as she read it, Charlotte’s heart sank in her chest.

“What’s wrong?” Judy asked. “Moretti didn’t renege on his end of the bargain, did he?”

“On the contrary. He turned the entire farm over to me free and clear.” Her eyes focused on the words hastily scrawled across the top of the first page.
For services rendered
, Daniel had written.
No further payment required.

…

“The London deal is completely collapsing. Could someone explain to me what the hell happened? How hard can it be to buy a simple shipyard?”

No one at the conference table answered, choosing instead to study their laps. Disgusted, Daniel pushed his chair away from the table.

The person he was most disgusted with was himself. If anyone should have predicted the obstacles with the deal, he should have.
You’re slipping, Moretti. Big time.
How else to explain the blunder he’d made with Charlotte? He still couldn’t believe she had gotten to him.

Well, at least he put a final end to that relationship by courier this morning. Maybe now he could shake the persistent punched-in-the-stomach feeling that had been dogging him since Sunday. He wouldn’t have to have another second of contact with her. No more being tormented by those emerald eyes or those luscious pink lips.

Charlotte Doherty belonged in the past.

He groaned.
Past
was a bad choice of words when it came to Charlotte.

Thankfully, the men at the table mistook his groan for displeasure with them. “Apparently Mr. Nesmith, the shipyard owner, needs a little more coddling. Which one of you is going to fly over and straighten things out?”

His intercom buzzed. “Unless it’s the White House, I don’t want to be disturbed,” he snapped. What was happening that the people in his orbit stopped listening to him?

“Sorry, Mr. Moretti, but it’s Professor Doherty. She insists on seeing you.”

Charlotte was here. He swore at the way his heart skipped hearing her name. “Tell her I’m in all-day meeting.”

“I did, sir. She said she’d wait. Should I call security?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. Tell her I’ll be with her in five minutes.”

What on earth did she want? To pull a Valerie and attempt a seduction? Didn’t she realize that method already crashed and burned?

He dismissed his management team and walked to the window, hoping a few seconds of ocean view would get his pulse under control. But like so many other things these past few days, the sight was tainted by memories of the woman in his waiting room. For a second he thought about grabbing a glass of scotch, but alcohol would only dull his head and leave him more susceptible than he was already.